. The one and sufficient reason for giving work to a homeless
boy, from the hated state of the Liberator, was charity. The Colonel had
his moods, like many another worthy man.

The small specks on the horizon sometimes grow into the hugest of
thunder clouds. And an act of charity, out of the wisdom of God, may
produce on this earth either good or evil.

Eliphalet closed with the bargain. Ephum was called and told to lead
the recruit to the presence of Mr. Hood, the manager. And he spent the
remainder of a hot day checking invoices in the shipping entrance on
Second Street.

It is not our place here to chronicle Eliphalet's faults. Whatever he
may have been, he was not lazy. But he was an anomaly to the rest of the
young men in the store, for those were days when political sentiments
decided fervent loves or hatreds. In two days was Eliphalet's reputation
for wisdom made. During that period he opened his mouth to speak but
twice. The first was in answer to a pointless question of Mr. Barbo's
(aetat 25), to the effect that he, Eliphalet Hopper, was a Pierce
Democrat, who looked with complacency on the extension of slavery.
This was wholly satisfactory, and saved the owner of these sentiments
a broken head. The other time Eliphalet spoke was to ask Mr. Barbo to
direct him to a boardinghouse.

"I reckon," Mr. Barbo reflected, "that you'll want one of them
Congregational boarding-houses. We've got a heap of Yankees in the town,
and they all flock together and pray together. I reckon you'd ruther go
to Miss Crane's nor anywhere."

Forthwith to Miss Crane's Eliphalet went. And that lady, being a Greek
herself, knew a Greek when she saw one. The kind-hearted Barbo lingered
in the gathering darkness to witness the game which ensued, a game dear
to all New Englanders, comical to Barbo. The two contestants calculated.
Barbo reckoned, and put his money on his new-found fellow-clerk.
Eliphalet, indeed, never showed to better advantage. The shyness he
had used with the Colonel, and the taciturnity practised on his
fellow-clerks, he slipped off like coat and waistcoat for the battle.
The scene was in the front yard of the third house in Dorcas Row.
Everybody knows where Dorcas Row was. Miss Crane, tall, with all the
severity of side curls and bombazine, stood like a stone lioness at the
gate. In the background, by the steps, the boarders sat, an interested
group. Eliphalet girded up his loins, and sharpened his nasal twang to
co